


jealous sea (comes like waves & i can't breathe)

by n7punk



Series: Outside of the War - She-ra canon stories [4]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, F/F, Implied/Referenced Sex, Jealousy, Lesbian Adora (She-Ra), Lesbian Catra (She-Ra), Mutual Pining, Pining, Possessive Behavior, Pre-Canon, There is so much vaguely horny yearning in this I'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:40:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25761502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/n7punk/pseuds/n7punk
Summary: Adora notices when Catra’s body changes, okay? She just knows better than to think about it too hard, than to do anything about it. That does not mean she wants anyoneelseto think about it, either.Catra knows she chose the absolute worst person to fall in love with, but she did not get very much of achoiceeither. She just has to watch Adora be her oblivious, golden self and pine for the first thing she could never have.(AKA a story about jealous and yearning teenagers).
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Series: Outside of the War - She-ra canon stories [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1793227
Comments: 29
Kudos: 648





	1. Teenagers

**Author's Note:**

> Will I ever write anything but lesbian yearning again? Science says no. Eight ball says outlook uncertain.  
> Title from Jealous Sea by Meg Myers.  
> CONTENT WARNING: References to underage sexual experiences between teenagers, nothing actually on-screen.

Puberty for Adora is painful in every way it can be. She shoots up with a growth spurt that has her gaining inches and then _feet_ in such a short time span an officer actually tries to send her to a medic before Shadow Weaver steps in.

Growing pains make her ache, lying in her bed at night struggling not to shake or groan. Catra takes up the position of a permanent heat pack, Adora guiding her to curl over whatever body part is aching the most that night. Between the weight and heat of her friend curled up tight over the offending muscles, the aches ease a little.

But now there are all new aches, ones she is well aware of the source of, and yet can do nothing to combat. Sex education is brief and to the point in the Horde. Enough to educate on disease, consequences, and precautions, but little enough to not be that helpful beyond what is medically necessary. Still, it is enough for Adora to understand the shivers and errant emotions that start to run through her when Catra’s own puberty starts.

Catra’s experience is the polar opposite of Adora’s. While Adora goes through fast and aggressive changes, feeling out of place and uncomfortable in a body she no longer feels she can control, Catra watches. While Adora struggles into a sports bra quickly becoming too tight despite having _only just gotten it, dammit_ , Catra laughs and lounges back on their bunk. When hers does hit, it is slow and almost peaceful.

Catra _blossoms_. Unfurling slowly, steadily, beautifully. It helps that she doesn’t have as far to grow as Adora, never bulks up in the physical way she does. Catra has time to get used to the weight of her smaller chest, never bothering with bras like Adora has to because she feels too constricted in them.

“It’s not fair,” Adora whines, one morning, face flushed as she watches Catra stretch.

“We’re different species, Adora. Of course it is going to be different,” Catra laughs, but she looks far too smug about being better at something Adora has no control over.

That also was not the part that Adora was referring to, but she digresses.

Connections - distractions, as Shadow Weaver calls them - are discouraged in the Horde. Adora has always known she liked girls, felt a pull toward them that she never felt for the boys in her class, but there are girls and then there is _Catra_. Catra is her best friend, maybe the only person in the world she implicitly trusts with absolutely anything, and she knows if there was ever going to be a _distraction_ for her, it was Catra. She cannot imagine ever trusting another with this part of herself. She also knows she can never risk giving it to Catra - should not even let herself think about it.

Unfortunately for her, while _distractions_ are banned, momentary connections - quick trysts in closets, sneaking out together after lights out - are turned a blind eye. The fist can only be so tight, and while relationships could lead to dangerous allegiances and complications, someone wound too tight can jeopardize things as well.

So while Adora sits by Catra’s side, pining and quietly denying, she has to know she is not the only one looking. That any other girl who throws a smile Catra’s way can give her something Adora never can - a momentary escape. They also could never treat Catra the way she could, the way she _deserves_.

\--

Watching Adora grow is almost as painful for Catra as it is for Adora. Not literally – she knows that from the way she helps the other girl massage her aching arms and legs at night, from the way Adora releases _groans_ of relief when Catra curls up on a sore calf, body heat and weight releasing the tension. It is, however, things like those _groans_ that make Adora’s puberty so hard for Catra.

Catra is pretty sure she fell in love with Adora when they were eight. Adora called Octavia a dumb face for her and that was it – she had her. Because of course Catra is going to fall for the shining, golden child, one of the only people in this whole place worth respecting, the antithesis of everything she is. Of course she went and found the absolute last person she could ever have and fell ass-first into love with her. No one else has ever made her life easy, so why shouldn't she complicate it herself, too?

She watches Adora shoot up, and then fill _out_ , and swallows thickly when she steals glances in the showers. She laughs as she watches Adora stumble over her own feet, unsure of her sudden height, but Catra is also right beside her, grabbing her arm and holding it just a little too long to steady her. She watches Adora struggle into her new sports bras and laughs to hide her flush.

She overhears Shadow Weaver tell Adora she cannot have any _distractions_ and she pretends not to notice the way Adora avoids her for the next few days. She does not know if it gives her hope or makes her claws flex in anger – if the idea that she could be more to Adora is enough, or the fact that Adora would never chose her regardless makes her want to curl up and _die_. It does not last long anyway – within a few days Catra is back in her best friend’s bed, on heat pack duties again. She suppresses a purr, happily balling herself over Adora’s arm and letting herself have the moment as Adora rambles about their scores for the day.

She will only ever get fleeting moments like this, anyway.

\--

Adora has maybe always been attracted to Catra, it just is not until she knows what _attracted_ means that she realizes exactly how deep the feeling runs. By the time she realizes, however, she is not the only one who has taken notice of Catra.

Adora is not a jealous person, okay, never has had any reason to be. But an incident involving a blowtorch and a secret stash of contraband - if the rumours are to be believed - leads to extensive damage in one of the other bunkrooms. No one is hurt too badly, but everyone who usually sleeps there has to be rehoused elsewhere while they repair it. That is how Ursula ends up sleeping in a bedroll at the foot of Adora’s and Catra’s bunk.

Adora swears that Shadow Weaver told her to pick that spot. Maybe she was frustrated with how she knew the two girls were sleeping in the same bed after lights out - or maybe she was catching on to how often they were sneaking out together. Either way, they have to be much more careful about their after-hours activities, and sneaking out is pretty much a no-go until Ursula is gone.

It also means privacy is out. Which would be fine, it is not like they have much in the shared bunkroom anyway, but it does not feel right to have their whispered discussions about the future with the older cadet sleeping just out of arms’ reach. The worst part of losing their small space to Ursula is that when Catra jumps down from her top bunk, yawning and stretching noisily as if she has been up there all night, Adora is not the only one watching her pointless little show from up-close. No one else in the room spares them a glance – they are all used to Catra and Adora’s antics – but Ursula raises a brow at Catra’s slow stretch, making her muscles shift and quiver slightly, and doesn’t bother to hide how her eyes travel down Catra’s body.

Adora cannot stand it. She has to get them out of there. Get Catra away from _her_. She helps Catra through the morning stretches she does, guiding her into the positions so she can be _done faster_. “We’re going to be late,” Adora grits out, grabbing Catra’s arm and hauling her away from Ursula’s invasive gaze as soon as they are done.

“Gee, what crawled up your ass and died?” Catra questions, tugging at her grip experimentally but still plodding along after her. It is not until they have rounded the corner, just the two of them again, that Adora feels like she can breathe.

She is not a jealous person – she just never had anything to be jealous over before. And still does not. Because Catra, like anyone else in the Horde, like Adora herself, is free to have a quick roll in any closet she chooses. _With_ anyone she chooses.

Adora does not do well in training that day. She keeps looking over to Catra – she is _distracted_. When Shadow Weaver pulls her aside afterwards, needling at her until she cannot take it anymore, she snaps, “I’m not sleeping well. I don’t like the new girl.” Shadow Weaver narrows her eyes at the statement but tells her she cannot let anything distract her. Adora walks away as soon as she thinks she can get away with it. Catra _should_ be done in the locker room by now, heading over to meet her by their bunk. They have a bit of free time, maybe an hour if they are lucky. If she can just get some alone time with Catra maybe it will ease this possessive grip in her chest.

Adora passes the locker room on her way to the bunk. Several people are in there, changing, chatting, messing around – but none of them are Catra. Or Ursula, she notes bitterly. That bitterness raises to bile in her throat when she reaches the bunk and finds neither of them there, either.

Adora stands, frozen and clenching her fists for several minutes. She does not have any right to be angry – she has never _said_ anything, never taken that risk. But that is why she is mad, isn’t it? She is mad at herself, for letting this happen. For losing her.

She never had her and never could.

Adora goes back to the training room. She runs drills robotically, paying no attention to the ache in her body, until she hears the dinner bell. When she leaves, she notices Shadow Weaver watching from up on the observation deck. She gets a nod from the woman.

Well, at least _someone_ is happy today.

Catra is not at dinner, either. Not at first. She slips in halfway through, Adora feeling a brush of softness against her waist and having to slam down on the hope in her chest. She looks up to find Catra settling down next to her, tail dropping from where it had brushed against her back. She looks-

She looks flushed, relaxed, happy, _content_. Her eyes are bright, her words rumble just a little bit as she greets her, and there are a thousand explanations for that but Adora can only focus on _one_.

She knows she is being unreasonable – but she never leaves Catra’s side for the rest of the day. For the rest of the week, truthfully. Not until the other bunkroom is repaired and Ursula is reassigned. She never asks Catra about that day – Catra never acts like it was anything other than a normal day. And- it couldn’t have been, right? They tell each other everything, they told each other about how they both like girls, why would Catra keep this a secret from her?

Until she leaves, Ursula continues to leer at Catra, in the mornings and the evenings, and Adora has to force her jealousy back down her throat. She tells herself, if something actually _had_ happened that day, one of them at least would be acting differently. Yet she knows, if something had passed between them, it would have been a fleeting moment with little meaning, so why should they act differently? Why should Catra bother telling her about it?

\--

Maybe Adora needs more privacy than Catra has given her credit for – and that thought definitely makes her chest feel hot, that Adora needs privacy from everyone else but her to the point where Catra has just never noticed – but once Ursula starts camping at the foot of their bunk, Adora gets _pissy_. With pretty much everyone, Catra included. It annoys Catra at first. She is already having to deal with this intrusion, the least Adora can do is not make it _worse_.

Catra minds the intrusion, even if she does not mind the _girl_. Ursula is a year or two older, direct, flirty. Catra barely glances at the older girl, but she likes how she makes her feel _appreciated_ in the mornings when Adora will hardly look at her, despite the deliberate stretches Catra has been doing just for her for _years_.

Except Adora is looking this morning. Adora is pissy again – or still, maybe – and it is making her _handsy_. She puts her hands all over Catra as she tries to get ready for the day. Adora practically manhandles her into her morning stretches, grip flexing on her as she complains about them being late despite the fact they are still on time. The touch makes Catra’s face heat. Adora drags her from the room, hand like an iron vice on her arm. Catra pulls on her grip just to see, feels a strange thrill when Adora still _doesn't let her go_ and-

Catra did not realize this was a _thing_ for her, would have thought she hated being bossed around, but apparently Adora is an exception. She cracks a joke to try to cover her reaction, but luckily oblivious Adora does not seem to notice. Catra spends the rest of the day glancing over to find Adora watching her and immediately feeling the ghost of her hands on her from that morning.

When Shadow Weaver makes Adora hang back – something about her score, which Catra had not even noticed the quality of in her incredible effort to think about anything other than Adora – Catra takes the reprieve thankfully. Shadow Weaver and Adora will both be distracted for a while, and no one else really pays attention to her if she is not fucking anything up.

Catra steals away to her hidden corner, tucked behind some machinery in an abandoned hallway that no one has replaced the light in for the three years Catra has known about the hiding spot. It is safe here. She first found it when she needed somewhere private to cry in, but she uses it for something else, now. She tucks down inside the nook to spend some time with herself, working through those _thoughts_ that were taunting her all morning.

She takes longer than usual – certainly far longer than she _intended_ – but with the memory of Adora’s hands on her she could not stop after one. She realizes it is already well into dinner and rushes to the cafeteria, not allowing herself her normal lag time between when she finishes and when she reappears. She has barely managed to stamp out her contented purr that always follows by the time she returns to the actively inhabited parts of the Fright Zone.

Adora is – weird, when she gets to dinner, but she reasons it has to do with Shadow Weaver and not her. There is no way Adora can _know_ where she has been, what she has been doing, and even if Adora did, she would not know _why_.

\--

Ursula is not the first, and she is not the last, but she is the only one Adora wonders about long after. Adora’s jealousy does not get better, internally, but she gets better at not acting on it. At reducing the clawing envy in her chest down to a glare in the direction of whatever girl has a wandering eye. There aren't many of them, but Adora always notices when other people notice Catra.

When guys notice Catra, it never bothers her. She knows it is not a threat – and how messed up is it, that she has to think about it in those terms? Categorize people into groups she has to watch to keep Catra _hers_ , all while saying nothing, because she knows how dangerous this is. Knows that for some reason she could never settle for one moment, and that any more than that would be catastrophic for both of them.

Kent, from three bunks down and across the room, outright propositions Catra outside the locker room one day. Adora is a few feet from her, talking to Lonnie in passing. Adora halts mid-sentence, turning to stare as, in retaliation, Catra outright laughs in his face. The longer she laughs, the more offended he looks. Adora is forced to stifle her own laughter behind her hand. Lonnie just gives Kent a pitying look for his stupidity. Catra does not stop laughing until Kent has walked away. She wipes tears from her eyes as she straightens, making eye contact with Adora, and then they are both laughing again.

Despite how ludicrous it was, later that night, after-hours and after Catra has crawled into her bed, Adora cautiously reaches down and wraps her hand around Catra’s tail where it is draped across her knees. She squeezes, slightly, and then relaxes her grip and waits. This only ever goes one of two ways.

Catra’s tail slips through her fingers as she pulls it away to curl it around herself and Adora sighs, bringing her arm back up to tuck it under her pillow. It is not like she really knew what she wanted, anyway. She just – wanted. Wanted for Catra to be closer.

She wanted Catra to be _hers_ , but she is not even sure what she means be that, really.

She feels a careful stirring at her feet, tries to ignore how it makes her heart leap and utterly fails. She holds her breath, waiting, as Catra silently crawls up the bed and lays out beside her. She lays with her back to her, a compromise, but Adora is more than happy to take it. She curls inward, just shy of touching the shorter girl, and lets her presence soothe whatever weird possessive streak is bothering her today for no good reason.

\--

People do not really look at Adora – not in the way they sometimes look at her. It almost bothers Catra until she realizes _why_ , and then it bothers her even more. She looks at Adora and thinks _how can you not_.

Because no one else is as foolish as her. They know better – they know not to mess with the golden child, they know that Adora is not interested, they know that Adora is too _focused_ for _distractions_ like them. Like her. They know that Catra has been trying for years, and she may be closer than anyone else ever gets, but she still hovers just outside of Adora’s orbit, unable to even touch her, much less _have_ her.

Catra, though? Why would anyone want her – she would be _easy_ to have, so they assume they can try. Too bad they are wrong. Adora is probably the only one who could even _handle_ her - if Adora gave half a shit to try. Catra curls her lip at anyone who dares to slip her an innuendo. She knows how they see her – a momentary distraction, unimportant. She is attractive to them and that is it. At least Adora seems to get offended on her behalf.

“It was disrespectful,” Adora mutters, a bit bitterly, when Catra asks why she was so rude to the girl who made a pass at Catra in the training yard. Catra laughs.

“No one respects me, Adora,” Catra chides her, already crawling away to return to the foot of the bed, now she has her question answered. She does not like to lie beside Adora – there is not enough room in the small bunk for them to do their infuriating almost-touching routine. She would rather get to actually drape across her legs than lie beside her face and just feel her _heat_.

“I do,” Adora whispers, her voice small, sad, and confused. If it were not for Catra’s hearing, she might have missed it completely. She stills, halfway through turning to curl up.

She kind of wants to scream. She kind of wants to crawl back up the bed and kiss her friend. She kind of does not believe her.

Catra curls into a tight ball at Adora’s feet and presses her face into her arms, ignoring the way it makes her mask dig painfully into her forehead.

\--

Catra is being _weird_ today. Catra is often weird, predictable in her chaotic unpredictability, but today she is being the kind of _weird_ she is when there is a cause. Adora cannot actually find a cause, though, because as far as she can tell Catra has been like this since waking up. At the very least since breakfast. Breakfast was – completely normal. They waited in line for their rations, Adora idly chatting with the girl in front of her, Catra slowly seething behind her for no perceptible reason. When they went to sit, Catra had yanked her away from their usual spot to another table where they did not know anyone, but there were still two seats left at the end of it.

Ever since then, she has been outright _hissing_ when somebody talks to her. She took a swipe at Kyle during training, which – actually, is not that unusual – but _still_. Adora keeps trying to approach her, but every time Catra _glares_ at her. She tries to give her space instead, and that seems to make Catra madder. She comes careening into every conversation Adora tries to have and grabs her by the arm, claws _out_ , to drag her away.

“What is your problem today?” Adora finally asks when Catra has dragged her out into a random hallway just to get away. Catra glares at her, hisses, and _walks away_.

Adora does not see her again until dinner. She is halfway in the doorway to the cafeteria before she registers the tell-tale click of Catra’s toe claws on the floor behind her. It gives her a half-second warning that Catra is there, and that she is pissed enough she cannot retract her claws, before she feels a pointed grip on her arm and is being dragged away again.

“I wasn’t even talking to anyone that time,” Adora complains – whines, really – as she turns to stumble after Catra. Catra turns her head to fix her with a piercing, unreadable look over her shoulder as she drags her away. Adora humours her for several hallways before she realizes Catra is not _stopping_. “Catra, come on, we have to _eat_ ,” Adora tries, tugging on her arm a bit. She still keeps following. Catra flicks an ear back towards her in acknowledgement, but says nothing.

Adora sighs, then huffs, then tries actual whining, but Catra relentlessly drags them through the halls until they end up outside and Adora realizes where they are going. She relaxes a little, and Catra must feel it, because she finally drops her grip on Adora’s arm. Adora continues to follow her as they scale up to their platform.

Catra has a bag, she only realizes once she settles to sit beside her. She was carrying it in front of her, out of Adora’s line of sight. Once they are both sitting Adora looks at her expectantly, still waiting for an explanation about _any_ part of Catra’s behaviour over the last day. Catra does not look at her directly, choosing instead to send her a narrow-eyed sidelong glance before sighing and dropping the bag in Adora’s lap.

“We don’t need to go to the cafeteria to eat,” is all she says. Adora blinks at her before opening the bag and finding some stolen rations inside.

“You could have _said_ ,” she tells Catra, smiling up at her as she pulls the food out of the bag. Catra merely sniffs in response, but the corner of her mouth twitches up as she continues to stare out at the skyline.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

\--

People do not look at Adora – not like Catra does – until someone _does_. A force captain, a few years older than them, in line in the cafeteria in front of them. The woman is tall, strong, with a few scars and, of course, that badge Adora covets so much gleaming on her chest. She _leers_ at Adora and compliments her fighting form – as if she has ever seen it, and is not obviously talking about her _body_. Adora _beams_ at her in response.

Catra _seethes_. She wants to give the force captain the Octavia treatment. Very nearly does – she _would_ – if the line did not move at that exact second and the woman moves forward to receive her rations. Catra drags Adora away from the direction the woman went in the second they both have their rations. It means they have to abandon their usual table, but if Catra can avoid Adora ever seeing that woman again, then she can avoid whatever punishment she would receive for clawing out another eye.

Adora has the nerve to act like she is being _unreasonable_. She keeps trying to talk to Catra in the patient, patronizing way that she _hates_ , so she keeps turning away. No one wants to deal with her shit – ever, really, but today in particular. She finds herself jealously shadowing Adora while the other girl has the nerve to _ignore_ her. Adora acts as if she thinks she has done nothing wrong.

She has not done _anything_ , actually, but Catra does not _want_ her to look at other girls like that. It is one thing to know Adora indistinctly likes women, it is something else to have proof she does not like _her_ because she is willing to have a roll in some fancy captain quarters with a woman who would not _treat her right_ , would not take care of her or let her be in charge like she likes.

Catra is fuming by the end of that train of thought, so she does the only thing she wants to and drags Adora from the room. She is frustrated by Adora’s sparkling personality, drawing people in to talk to her while Catra is forced to linger in the corner and wallow in her unreasonable emotions. She is frustrated by _Adora_ , by her stupid ponytail swaying and slight pout of confusion as Catra drags her away. She is frustrated by herself, acting like she has any right to any of these feelings, but letting them take control of her anyway.

She lets Adora go, when Adora questions her. In all her annoyance, now she has annoyed _Adora_ , and as much as she would like to get her back for how she has made her feel-

She also does not want to push her away, into waiting arms.

Catra decides she has to make it up to her, and she has to make sure that captain does not look at Adora again – preferably without having to remove her eyes, _she guesses_. She sneaks into the kitchens, stealing some of the better rations and squirreling them away until dinner. She _tries_ to find Adora, assuming she will be in the training area thanks to her stupid, responsible work ethic – but she isn’t, and she isn’t anywhere else Catra checks, either. She ends up running to the cafeteria just a few moments after dinner has started, realizing she might miss Adora completely.

She catches her just before she loses her inside. There is something almost soothing about the way Adora follows her, not without question, but _despite_ her questions. When Catra finally gets her up on their platform, she seems to appreciate the impromptu picnic. She does not mention any of Catra’s behaviour that day again, and she knocks their shoulders together as they joke.

Catra drinks her in like she is drowning. She may not be able to _have_ Adora, not really, but she can have this, at least. She can have her in her life.

Two weeks later, their stolen skiff crashes in the Whispering Woods, and she loses even that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made Adora’s puberty ridiculously fast because she is an Eternian and I thought it would be funny. That’s p much the only reason. That and to torture Catra. I also thought it would be funny to have Catra, who has known about her feelings for so long, go through a slow and continuous change while dumbass Adora had to go through a crash course.  
> I named the interloper after my college government professor, not Disney. She was a hot mess, showing up to class late and either hungover or still drunk every single day despite the fact it was a 10:30am class. I loved her. She was actually a great teacher, too. I don’t remember a thing but that’s more of a me problem than a testament to her skill.  
> Chapter 2 will be a little follow-up of Adora and Catra talking about what they were really doing/thinking after they are together and can like. actually communicate. It's pretty different but I also could not get it out of my head.


	2. Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Years later, a whole lot of hurt and few kisses between them, they talk about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're curious, this post-series scene is set about a month into my post-canon ficverse, just a bit after their first time.

They are in Bright Moon, in the castle gardens. Melog likes to be outside after living in ruins for so long, so Catra walks with them out here sometimes. It seems to be calming for them both. Adora had gotten – well, lonely, she supposes, but really she had just finished her work and wanted to be with Catra again now she could. She found her girlfriend draped across a low tree branch with Melog, and after some coaxing and minor bribing they both knew was for show, she got her to come down.

Adora is leaning against the trunk of the tree now, Catra splayed out on her back between Adora’s legs. Melog is pressed against her left side, and one of them is purring, but Adora honestly cannot tell who. Adora is twirling Catra’s short locks between her fingers, admiring Catra’s relaxed, half-dozing expression, flushed from the heat of the sun. For some reason, seeing Catra’s face like this pulls a memory out from deep in her subconscious of another time Catra had looked like this, years ago, despite having seen it in a different context far more recently.

With the resurfacing of that memory, Adora realizes she knows definitively what did not happen that day – but it is also okay for her to ask what _did_ , if Catra even remembers it.

“Hey, Catra? You awake?” Adora gently prods, voice low. She does not want to wake her with something so insignificant that she might not even know what Adora is talking about. Catra’s ear twitches and she slits her eyes open, peering up at Adora curiously. She lets out a small, inquisitive trill, apparently too settled to speak full words. Adora feels a spike of warmth blossom in her chest.

“Um, so I don’t know if you even remember this, but – when we were sixteen, I think, we had another cadet sleep in our bunk after a fire or something?” Adora prompts, watching as Catra’s expression wrinkles in confusion, and then consideration.

“She wasn’t _in_ our bunk, but yeah. Ursula, right?” Catra asks, tilting her head slightly as she looks up at Adora. Adora feels her face flush, biting down on the instant spike of jealousy that wants to flare at Catra remembering the other girl’s name. It has been _years_ and they are _together_ now, she should be over this.

“Okay, so one of the days she was there, you kind of disappeared for a while? And I – maybe had a freak-out about it, and kind of spent the next few years wondering what you were doing, um, then,” Adora admits, sheepishly looking into the distance. She knows Catra can read between the lines, at least a little bit.

Catra, to her surprise, says nothing. If it were not for the fact that Adora already knew Catra had been in love with her the whole time, and that Adora already knew she was her first, absolute envy would be welling up at what seems like a damning silence. Adora hazards meeting Catra’s gaze.

Catra is squinting at her, confusion evident, but her face is also flushed from more than just the sun, now. “I disappeared all the time. I _still_ do. Why did you freak out?” she asks. Adora realizes, suddenly, she is avoiding the question, and all that old panic reintroduces itself. It occurs to Adora that there is a lot between _innocent afternoon_ and _sex_ that could have taken place. Because yeah, Catra may still disappear, but she always _tells_ Adora where she is going, or at the very least that she _is_ going. If she didn't, they both know from experience that Adora would panic. This - is a purposeful deflection.

She swallows down her feelings, taking a glance at Melog. Their mane is a pink colour, usually indicating Catra is _flustered_ , although that can mean anything along the gradient of _mildly_ _embarrassed_ to _pin me against a wall_. Adora decides it is easier just to meet Catra’s gaze, which is still questioning.

“I got really envious of her. Of how she looked at you. Because she could and it- wouldn’t have to mean anything. Wouldn’t ruin anything. And then you disappeared, and she disappeared, and then when you came to dinner you seemed so _content_ in a way you just _weren’t_ then,” she rushes out, feeling her face heat. Catra, for her part, looks amused. It makes a breath of relief release from Adora. Catra notices, and she laughs a little, a small sound full of light that she hides behind one of her hands. Adora’s heart _sings_.

“How long have you been worried about this, Adora?” Catra asks, the corner of her eyes crinkling as she looks up at her.

“Every minute between it happening and you kissing me for the first time,” Adora admits. “I mean, not _every_ minute, but – yeah, that whole time.”

She expects Catra to laugh again, but instead she finds her just gazing up at her with shining eyes. Then, as quick as the soft expression appeared, it is replaced with a sudden wide-eyed look of embarrassment as Catra remembers _something_.

“Catra?” Adora questions, cautiously, sliding her hands down from her hair to squeeze lightly at her shoulders. Catra coughs into her hand, turning her face away. She is practically _burning_ with shame, now.

“So, you were jealous, which explains – a lot, actually,” she hazards. Adora winces a little, but she nods. She cannot deny it. Back then she always labeled the feeling as _protective_ , but that was more of a distancing mechanism from her feelings for Catra than anything else.

Catra darts her eyes to her before looking away again. “And because you were _jealous_ ,” she says the word like she is _reveling_ in it, which should not affect Adora like it does, but she cannot deny she _gets it_ , “you manhandled me all morning. Adora, you _pushed_ me into my stretch positions that morning. Your hands were all over me, and – I thought I was projecting how possessive it felt, but clearly not,” Catra continues to explain, still carefully not looking at her. Adora feels like she is in the middle of an epiphany but cannot see to the end of the sentence. “I might have sneaked off to my corner to - deal with it. And maybe I - _dealt with it_ , three or four times and ended up late to dinner,” Catra looks caught between wanting to die on the spot or just combusting then and there. She is determinedly looking at the tree line.

Adora _gapes_ at her girlfriend. She knows Catra can see it even in her periphery – her flush somehow finds a way to deepen.

“You- you were never _like that_ , Adora. Never _wanted_ me like that. I- I didn’t even know it did anything for me until that moment, and then it was pretty much all I ever thought about, afterwards,” Catra reasons, like she has to justify _wanting_ her to Adora. She finally manages to meet Adora’s gaze. If her ears were not already flat against her skull, Adora is certain they would have twitched in tighter. She feels the sudden need to reassure Catra.

“I was _always_ like that. I still am. I just- buried it as deep as I could. I knew it wasn’t my place. I still hated it every time someone was bold enough to make a pass at you,” Adora tells her, sliding one of her hands up to gently pet along Catra’s ears. It is hard with them pressed back into her hair, but somewhere between Adora’s touch and her words they start to relax.

Catra is still flushed, but she seems less embarrassed, at least. She is openly gazing up at Adora, heat high on her cheeks. “I just- I did not realize how badly I wanted to feel wanted, until then. So, yeah, I can see now why you – thought what you thought, but that is all it was,” Catra finishes, shrugging. Adora nods, smiling down at her as she strokes along her ears. Catra shifts, somewhat restlessly, looking back out at the tree line again.

\--

Catra could very well let it lie. She has already admitted enough for the day. But she also knows she and Adora are both messed up, and sometimes their types of _messed up_ align. She knows that the warmth and love she felt when Adora admitted to being jealous is something Adora would feel, too, at hearing the feeling reciprocated.

“As long as we’re – talking about _jealousy_ ,” she starts, forcing her body to still from its awkward fidgeting, “I, uh, have something to admit, too,” she admits. She looks up to find Adora’s brow wrinkled as she looks down at her, but her eyes are bright, almost with _excitement_.

“Do you remember,” she starts, recalling that was how Adora had started, and aren’t they both idiots with how badly they wanted each other, thinking these things that were so significant to one of them could be completely missed by the other, “maybe a week or two before you found the sword, there was a day where I was – hissy?” Catra settles on saying. Adora blinks down at her, mouth twisting up in a considerate pout for just a moment before realization dawns on her face.

“When we had our picnic? Up on the roof?” Adora asks. Her eyes sparkle with that eager need for approval, for Catra to tell her she got it _right_. Catra feels a pleased rumble roll through her at finally being the one that Adora is seeking approval from. She nods. Adora beams down at her in response.

“I know you’re oblivious – I mean, I knew that then, too, but not as well as I do now – but at breakfast that morning, you were being flirted with. By a force captain, no less,” Catra tells her. She is shocked to find she feels almost no bitterness at the memory, now, not with Adora's hands petting along her. She watches confusion and _disbelief_ cloud Adora’s face. She really is an idiot. Catra rolls her eyes. “She complimented your _fighting form_ , Adora,” Catra explains. The confusion on Adora’s face deepens, if anything.

“Yeah? She was a force captain – it is kind of their job to make sure cadets are whipped into shape,” Adora says. Catra _stares_ at her. How she ever fell for someone so stupid is a miracle.

Adora is not stupid, not really, but Catra can only think the word _oblivious_ so many times before it gets repetitive.

“Adora, she had never seen you fight. She was talking about _your body_. She was _propositioning_ you,” Catra explains, slowly. At least the dawning realization on Adora’s face is amusing. It is accompanied by a high blush pouring over her cheeks and a small “oh” as Adora leans back against the tree a bit. Catra rolls her eyes, nudging her head back into Adora’s touch that paused when she had her little epiphany. “I got mad at you – jealous, I guess – because it seemed so obvious and you were _smiling_ at her. I felt like it was confirmation that you didn’t want me, because it was the first time you were actually interested in being with another woman like that,” Catra explains. Adora blinks down at her, opens her mouth- Catra raises a hand to cut her off. “I know you weren’t, now. I knew even then, really, but I was still jealous. I lashed out, and then you started avoiding me, and I got scared I had pushed you away. So I set up that little picnic for us as an apology,” Catra explains, shrugging.

“I thought you wanted to be left alone. I – I hadn’t realized, yet, that whenever you ran it was because you wanted me to chase you,” Adora explains. She resumes petting along Catra’s ears. Catra darts her gaze away at that. She hates to hear Adora say it – but she is right. Catra was always running, hoping that _this time_ would be the time that Adora went after her, caught up to her and begged for her.

She wanted to feel wanted, all her life. She tilts her head back, letting herself soak in the assurance of Adora’s steady touch, the gentle care she runs over her sensitive ears. The heat of her body against Catra’s back, the assurance of the strength in the grip of Adora's hand on her shoulder. Beside her, Melog begins to purr again.

They were idiots. They made some mistakes. They were _still_ making mistakes, sometimes. But Catra lets herself soak in her girlfriend, her magical partner-in-crime, the warm afternoon, and she feels it – the thing she has wanted all her life.

She feels wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternative chapter title: Catra admits to being a bottom.  
> This was actually a fic I started back in June and then abandoned. Initially the fic was just supposed to be Adora's perspective, which is why I abandoned it because that just didn't _work_ like that, so boy am I glad I pulled it out of my abandoned folder to reconsider because I love these dumbasses and their yearning and that they get to be _happy_ now.


End file.
